


But I

by Lovetart77



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Erotica, F/M, Ficlet, Heterosexual Sex, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-War, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-09
Updated: 2008-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-26 11:36:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovetart77/pseuds/Lovetart77
Summary: Hermione has a broken heart and Ron is determined to cheer her up.I think you can guess what happens next *wink*Rated RT for following chapters.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: I know I always thank my beta **gingerale,** and I mean it each and every time, but this time I’m especially thankful for her. Her friendship means the world to me and she’s my # 1 cheerleader  


* * *

"Absolutely not, Ronald. You know I love you dearly, but no."

Hermione brought the book back up in front of her face and tried to continue reading, but was unable to really concentrate. Unbidden images popped into her head. Her hand pushing open the bedroom door, her gaze taking in the naked entwined couple, the distinct slap of skin against skin as _**her**_ boyfriend made love to another woman in _**their**_ bed. She herself had picked out the ruddy sky blue sheets Joseph and the tart were entangled in. 

She had moved out the very next day, into Ron and Harry's spare room. It had been Joseph’s flat to begin with and she really didn’t want to stay there any longer, even though Joseph told her she should stay and he would leave. She couldn’t stand the look of the place and the memories that came with it. 

That had been almost eight weeks ago but sometimes it still seemed as though it had just happened yesterday. Damn him anyway. Even knowing what an absolute bastard he was didn't stop the pain from squeezing her. 

"Hermione?" Ron's voice snapped her back to the present and she lowered the book once more to gaze at him. 

"Ron, I'm not ready." It was a weak excuse, she knew.

"You can't hide from him forever. It's been weeks and you're going to have to face him sooner or later."

"I'd rather it be later," she muttered.

"Look, there's not even a definite chance that you're going to see him."

"Honestly! Of course he's going to be there," she huffed. "This party is for the Cannons and he's the owner's son. I can almost guarantee he'll be there. Him and his little tart with all the..." she trailed off, scowling, as her hands rose in front of her chest to mime an extremely generous bosom. Ron laughed and she glared at him. 

"It's not funny! I think I'd probably claw her eyes out if I saw them. Oh God, Ron what’s wrong with me? He treated me like rubbish, yet he still has the power to hurt me. Why?" She felt the blasted tears well up in her eyes and roll down her cheeks. 

With a curse, Ron moved closer and wrapped his arms about her. She pressed her cheek against him and breathed in deeply. He smelled of clean cotton and woodsy soap—just plain Ron. He held her as she sniffled into his shirt, rubbing her back soothingly. 

"There's nothing wrong with you. I can't imagine what possessed him to throw your gorgeous and brilliant self over for some two-bit slag but I can't say that I'm sorry he's not a part of your life anymore. You've always known that Harry and I only tolerated him for your sake. We never thought he was good enough for our girl." 

He gently pulled her back and she looked with watery eyes up into his dearly familiar and handsome face. Gone was the too skinny, gangly, carrot-topped boy of her childhood. In his place was a gorgeous and strong man. He had grown into his height and his shoulders had broadened. Thanks to the hours he spent in Quidditch training, his six-foot frame was hard with muscles. His freckles had faded—not completely gone but a pale shadow of their formal selves. The red hair, which he had complained so much about in his youth, had grown out and deepened to a darker auburn. Yes, Ron had indeed changed on the outside. But his heart had stayed the same. He was still one of the bravest and strongest and smartest people she knew, fiercely loyal and still possessing that notorious redheaded temper. Hermione was thankful to be counted among his friends, grateful they had not grown apart, but rather gotten closer as years went by. 

Yes, she was thankful. Even if she did still wonder, even at a time like this, at what might have been.

*~*~*~*~*

**_Seven months prior…._ **

A pair of strong arms grabbed her from behind and she squealed with laughter as she was spun in a tight circle. When she regained her feet it was only to be encompassed in a snug bear hug. 

“Ron, I can’t breathe!” she protested laughingly.

“It’s almost New Years, ‘Mione! We sure do have a lot to celebrate this year, don’t we?” 

She smiled at his enthusiasm. She also suspected he was more than a bit tipsy on the champagne that had been passed around all night. But it was New Years after all, and he was totally right in the fact that they had a lot to celebrate. Voldemort was dead, vanquished, and would not be coming back. Harry was finally at peace with himself and his choices and had taken a job at The Ministry in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where she herself also worked. Ron was living his dream, playing Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, and was already being called things like “brilliant” and “outstanding”. The icing on the cake for the Weasley family was that Charlie was finally leaving Romania and coming home to work at a new reserve that was opening soon in Wales. Everything was going well and this party, thrown by the Ministry, was a great way to kick off the New Year.

“Hey! Did you make any resolutions this year?” Ron asked with a grin.

The question surprised her, for she had in fact made one. A resolution no one else knew about. She had resolved to find out if Ron regarded her as anything more than a best friend, because she knew that the feelings she had for him were definitely not platonic. 

Her feelings for Ron were unlike those she had for Harry, whom she considered a brother. One did not wonder at the perfection of one’s brother’s bum, did they? They also did not wonder what his lips would actually taste like, or how the rough calluses on his hands would feel against certain places on her body. No, those were not sisterly thoughts at all. But now that the moment was upon her, she simply could not blurt it out. She needed a plan, needed to think things through. So she just smiled and shook her head. 

“No, not really. How about you?”

“Nah. You know I’m not one for planning. I just roll with the punches.”

Hermione spotted Harry scanning the crowd and she waved to get his attention. His eyes filled with relief as he spotted them and made his way over.

“God, what a crush! I didn’t think I’d ever find you two!”

The song currently playing ended with a flourish and the bandleader turned to the crowd with a huge smile.

“Ok you all know what time it is! Everyone count with us! Ten…nine…eight…”

Hermione stood between the two boys with a smile, her arms about each of their waists and theirs slung across her shoulders. They grinned at each other.

“…Seven…six…five…four…three…two…one!”

“Happy New Year!” Hermione yelled along with everyone else. Fireworks erupted across the ceiling of the ballroom and shimmering confetti rained down upon the cheering crowd.

She was squeezed tightly, first by Harry who pressed a smacking kiss to her cheek and then by Ron. As he pulled back from the hug, Hermione caught his eye. Time seemed to stop for a moment as he leaned towards her. _This is it! He’s going to kiss me!_

She closed her eyes and waited breathlessly but instead of his lips touching hers, she felt them on her forehead. She opened her eyes to find him looking at her strangely.

“Happy New Years, ‘Mione.”

“Happy New Years, Ron.” she managed a ghost of a smile, feeling her cheeks heat with a blush. Oh Merlin, he didn’t feel the same at all! A kiss on the forehead? Definitely the actions of a brother. Well at least she didn’t have to wonder anymore…

*~*~*~*~*

**_Present_ **

She shook her head. That was best left in the past. No use dragging her thoughts through it again. She had met Joseph a few weeks after New Years. They had hit it off and the rest was, as they say, history. At the moment she had other things to deal with. Like Ron’s persistence. 

"Hermione, I really, really would like for you to be there. It's a party celebrating my team and Harry will be there and it won't seem right if you're not."

"Ron, I'm not in the mood for a party."

"Here's what I suggest. Dig deep for that Gryffindor courage that I know you have heaps of. Put on something wicked sexy, come to the party with me, and make Connery realize _**exactly**_ what he threw away. And plus,” here Ron put on his best puppy dog eyes, “I don’t have a date.” 

Hermione scoffed.

**“** _ **You**_ don’t have a date? Mr. Plastered-All-Over-The-Magazines?”

Last month, Witch Weekly had done a two-page spread on Ron, complete with photos and an interview.

**_Ron Weasley, the sexiest Cannon Keeper to ever grace a broom. Find out what makes our favorite Gryffindor GROWL!_ **

Harry and Hermione had teased him unmercifully about his adoring fans and how women literally threw themselves at him wherever he went. Ron took it all in stride, putting up with their good-natured jibes and brushing them off with a smile. 

"Apparently I’m just too much man for my adoring fans to handle.” He gave a mock shrug of deep regret but his blue eyes were twinkling. “Come on, love. We've rented out the whole nightclub and it'll be loads of fun! It's not every day that the Cannons win the Cup. Heck, it isn’t even every decade! Please come? For me?"

Hermione sighed. When he looked at her so pleadingly with those blue, blue eyes, she could refuse him nothing

"OK, Ron. I’ll go. For you."

"Excellent!" He gave her one more quick squeeze then jumped to his feet. “Be ready at half seven, yeah? Go do whatever it is you women do to doll yourself up and I promise we’ll have a great time.”

“I'll be ready. Oh, and Ron?" she called as he walked towards the door of her bedroom. 

"Yeah?" 

"Thanks for pulling me out of my funk. Joseph's not going to know what hit him," she said, determination written on her face. Ron smiled.

"You're a bit scary, you know that? Brilliant, but scary." He winked, and then ducked as a pillow narrowly missed his head. She could hear his laughter echo down the hallway.

Shaking her head, Hermione strode to her closet. Doll herself up? She could do that. Well, with some help, of course. A few minutes later her head was stuck in the green flames of the fireplace.

“Ginny? I need you, can you come through?”

*~*~*~*~*

“Hold still, Hermione. Almost done. There!” Ginny grinned widely. “Oh sweet Merlin, Joseph is not going to know what hit him!”

“Can I look now?”

“Yes. Wait, I forgot the flower. Hang on.”

Just as Ginny finished pinning a deep red velvet rose behind Hermione’s ear, a knock sounded on the door.

“Girls, are you ready yet?”

“Come in Harry!” Ginny called.

The door opened to reveal Harry, looking handsome in a pale blue Oxford with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of snug black trousers. To the surprise of almost everyone, after the war Harry had developed a passion for shopping. Ron teased him rotten about it most of the time but Harry paid him no heed. He was a different person these days, much more open and relaxed and happy. Of course, Hermione knew a lot of that had to do with the fact that for the first time in his life, Harry was deeply in love and she adored seeing him so content. 

“Wow, Hermione! You look brilliant!” His green eyes were wide at the moment as he took in her appearance.

“Do I? Ginny hasn’t let me see yet.”

The redhead in question laughed. “I’ve done a fantastic job, if I do say so myself. Go on, have a look.”

Hermione stood up from the chair and opened her closet door to look in the full-length mirror on the back. Surely that wasn’t her staring back? The stranger in the mirror looked sexy, which was a word Hermione had never before used to describe herself. Ginny, who was an absolute genius when it came to all things cosmetic, had been itching to do just such a thing for years and tonight she’d had a field day. 

Faded, velvet soft denim clung to her like a second skin. The jeans were Ginny’s and very snug across Hermione’s hips and thighs. They disappeared into tall black leather boots that sported three-inch heels. Hermione had bought the boots on a whim a few months back but had never worn them. Looking at her reflection now, she decided right then and there she loved them. Above the hip-hugging waistband of the jeans, she wore a strapless corset of black velvet that laced up the front with black satin ribbons. The velvet was stiff and snug and pushed her breasts up and together, causing a goodly amount of cleavage to show. A single black velvet ribbon encircled her throat. Ginny had done her makeup perfectly, soft and feminine except for the deep red lip shine. Her hair was artfully tousled into loose curls and waves, the velvet rose nestled behind her right ear. 

Hermione turned to her friends.

“Are you sure this looks… decent?”

“Decent? No. But you don’t want to be decent tonight, Hermione. You want to be sexy and beautiful and mysterious. And we’ve pulled that off brilliantly.” Ginny smiled.

“Ok then. I guess I’m ready.”

“I’m going to go hurry Ron up. We’ll leave in about ten minutes.” Harry left, shutting the door behind him. 

Ginny gathered her things, magically shrinking the tote bag and slipping it into her pocket. She’d brought her clothes with her and gotten ready here while she helped Hermione to save time and she was now dressed for the party in a black mini skirt and sheer, pale gold blouse and black high heeled sandals. Noting how pensive Hermione suddenly looked, Ginny grew concerned.

“You’re terrified, aren’t you? Of seeing him?” she asked gently.

Hermione sank onto the edge of the bed.

“Yes.” The single word was uttered softly.

Ginny sat next to her on the bed and pulled her into a hug. 

“You’re going to be magnificent Hermione. Hold your head high and remember, you did nothing wrong. Joseph is a bastard, plain and simple, not fit to lick those gorgeous boots.” 

“He is, isn’t he?”

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thank you so much Ginny. For everything.”

“What are friends for? Besides, I’m dying to see the look on his face when he gets an eyeful of you. Now, I’m just going to pop home and grab Nev and we’ll meet you all at the club, OK?”

“Ok. See you soon.”

After the door closed behind Ginny, Hermione took one last glance at herself in the mirror.

_You can do this Granger._

She stuck her wand in her boot and dabbed on some of her favorite lemon perfume. She was ready. Ready to have fun with her friends and get on with her life.

*~*~*~*~*

"Are you planning on going to the party without a shirt?"

Ron turned and found Harry leaning against his doorframe, eyebrow raised in question. 

"I can't decide which one to wear," he admitted with a frown. So far he’d only managed a pair of faded jeans and socks.

Harry rolled his eyes and two minutes later a pale green short sleeve shirt, brown leather belt and his brown suede boots were handed to Ron. As he sat down on the edge of the bed to pull his boots on, he shook his head. He’d laughed when Harry had suddenly developed a sense of style, but it certainly came in handy sometimes. 

"Harry mate, I have no clue how you do that." 

"It's a gift Weasley, and one you better be thankful for. Otherwise your sorry arse would walk out the door looking like shite more often than not." 

Ron laughed. 

"Is Hermione ready yet?" 

"Er, yes. I just came from her room." A strange look crossed Harry's face. Ron frowned.

"What’s wrong?”

"Nothing at all. She and Ginny have apparently had a grand time getting all fancied up.”

"It’s about time.” Ron smiled. "She's been moping about for weeks and it will do her the world of good to get dressed up and come out with us. Especially if that git Connery gets a look at her." 

"I know. Every time I think of what that fucking wanker did to her…" Harry clenched his fists.

The night that Hermione had tearfully showed up at their flat, Ron and Harry had been outraged. Harry thought of Hermione as his sister and Ron… Well Ron didn't like to dwell too much on just _**what**_ Hermione meant to him but he had literally seen red when she explained what had happened. It had taken over an hour of her pleading with the two of them before they finally agreed not to go beat the living shit out of the guy. Joseph was the only son of Jackson Connery, the owner of the Cannons and Hermione had feared that if they did something to him, Ron's job would be in serious jeopardy. 

Ron and Harry agreed, but had shared a _**look**_ telling each other that the matter was definitely not over. 

A week later a bewildered Joseph Connery landed in St. Mungo's with no clue how he ended up there, and with three cracked ribs, a broken nose, and an extremely swollen set of testicles to boot.

Harry was brilliant with Obliviating charms, complicated ones that even the most talented Healers could not undo. And Ron had perfect aim, especially when wearing a pair of recently purchased steel-toed boots. Hermione had never asked them outright if they had anything to do with Joseph's battered condition, but they both knew she knew the truth. Especially when, the next day, they came home to find she had made a whole batch of their favorite chocolate fudge, something she normally had to be begged to do and would usually only make for special occasions. Ron smiled slightly at the memory. 

A sudden distinct _**pop!**_ sounded, announcing that someone had just Apparated into their living room. Harry walked to the door. 

"Hurry up, Ron."

Ron tucked his wand into his jeans and sprayed on a bit of the cologne that Hermione had bought him for his birthday. He took a last look in the mirror. Satisfied, he made his way into the living room. The sight he was met with brought him up short. 

"Randy buggers." He muttered, shaking his head at the pair.

Neither of them seemed to notice and continued to snog each other senseless as if it had been years since they'd seen each other instead of just about twelve hours.

Ron had to admit he had been shocked when, a few months after the end of the war, Harry came to him and revealed that he was gay. He was shocked, but not upset or repulsed, as Harry feared he might be. Ron had only ever wanted Harry to be happy, whichever way he could be. He had no problem with the fact that his best mate preferred blokes to birds, and he'd had been more than pleased when said best mate and his big brother Charlie suddenly developed the hots for each other when Charlie came back from Romania in January. He’d also been the unwilling witness to some rather heated displays, such as the one that was taking place now. He coughed loudly before things got more out of hand, which was something that happened more often than not with this pair. 

"Alright you two, can you cease to eat each other's tongues while I'm in the room? Much obliged."

Harry and Charlie broke apart -none to quickly, Ron noticed. His brother grinned at him. 

"Hello baby brother. You're looking right fine tonight."

"Thanks. You're not looking so awful yourself. Although I know a charm that can banish that hickey from your neck."

"Nah, I like it. Reminds me whom I belong to." The older redhead grinned and pulled Harry against his chest. "Are we about ready to go, then?"

"Yeah, just waiting on Hermione, who should be-"

"Right here." A voice spoke from the hallway entrance.

The three men turned to look at her. Harry smiled, Charlie let out a long appreciative whistle and Ron simply stared. Gone was the tearful girl of a few hours ago. This Hermione was gorgeous and sexy and proud, determination written on her beautiful face. Ron’s heart thudded heavily. 

_Fuck, I'm in trouble._

**_TBC!!_ ** __

 


	2. Chapter 2

As Hermione laughed at something Harry said, Ron snapped his mouth shut and quickly regained his composure.  He had seen her dressed up of course, for various Ministry functions and the like. But not like this. **Never** like this. She was stunning, and his mouth watered at the sight of all that delectably bare skin. His fingers positively itched to touch her—the soft curve of her shoulder, the bare tops of her lovely breasts where the shirt pushed them up, the elegant line of her collarbone. He wanted to touch them all. He knew he didn’t have the right, but oh, how he wished he did…

Seven Months prior…

“Five…four…three…two…one… Happy New Year!”

Ron cheered along with everyone else, but his attention was mainly on the girl beside him. Harry released her and gave her a kiss on the cheek and then suddenly she was in Ron’s arms, and she smelled so bloody fantastic it made his head reel. He had drunk quite a bit of champagne, but he couldn’t blame all of his lightheadedness on that alone. He was drunk on Hermione as much as he was drunk on alcohol.

When he pulled back to look at her, when he met her warm brown gaze, the rest of the world ceased to exist for a few moments. She was so beautiful to his hungry gaze, sweet and lovely, and he wanted to kiss her more than anything, had wanted to for what seemed like forever. But he also knew he wanted their first kiss to be private, without him mostly foxed in a crowded, noisy ballroom. He would, he promised himself. He would have that kiss when they were both clearheaded and alone. It was what she deserved. So instead of pressing his lips to hers and tasting her like he so desperately wanted, he opted to press a warm kiss to her forehead.

“Happy New Year, ‘Mione,” he said, trying hard to sound unaffected.

“Happy New Year, Ron,” she replied with a slight smile, her cheeks pink. He guessed she had imbibed a bit freely of the champagne as well, judging from that flush. Merlin, she was gorgeous. He couldn’t wait to kiss her good and properly. He just needed to find the right time.

Present.

_The right time indeed_. Things had not at all unfolded the way Ron had planned. After New Year, he scarcely saw Hermione for a week between both of their hectic schedules. Before he knew it, she had gone on a week-long business trip for the Ministry.  

And when she came back, she was spouting all sorts of nonsense about a lovely man he had met named Joseph Connery. Ron knew who he was, of course. He was the only son of the owner of the Chudley Cannons, the very team Ron played for. It hurt Ron badly to see the two of them together but he knew he only had himself to blame. He’d chosen to wait, and Connery, the lucky bloke, had scooped Hermione up while Ron was busy strategizing. 

Hermione had seemed truly happy with the git, so he said nothing and lived daily with the regret that she was not his. And life had gone on. 

And now, **now!** Every single bit of that longing that he’d kept bottled up inside of him for so long was threatening to explode. The urge to touch her now was almost completely overwhelming him. He had to remind himself over and over that he had no right to take advantage of her when she was in such a situation—about to face her bloody cock-up of an ex-boyfriend. _She’s vulnerable, damnit!_ She needed his support and his friendship tonight and he’d damn well give her that. So he plastered a fake grin on his face and winked at her.

“You look in-fucking-credible, ‘Mione.”

She blushed a bit, which he couldn’t help but find adorable.

“Really? You don’t think it’s too much then?”

“Too much? No. Just enough I’d say.”  Ron turned to Harry and Charlie, whom he’d nearly forgotten was with them. “Wouldn’t you fellows?”

“Connery’s tongue is going to hit the floor, it is.” Harry nodded. “You’re gorgeous.”

“More than gorgeous,” Charlie added. “If I swung the other way, you’d be in a world of trouble tonight, love.”

Hermione laughed delightedly.

“Well, now. I think I’d like to start every evening like this. Three handsome men telling me how gorgeous I look. A girl could get used to this, I tell you.”

“Well then, shall we?” Harry asked, lacing his fingers through Charlie’s and tugging him towards the door. Hermione stopped Ron with a hug.

“You look very handsome, Ron. I’m going to be the envy of all the girls there tonight. And thank you so much again. I think this is exactly what I needed.”

Ron closed his eyes just for a second and breathed in deeply of her scent. Lemons and jasmine. It almost made him dizzy. He felt a determined stirring in his groin and regretfully pulled back.

“I think you’re right. Now let’s get going.”

******

The four of them walked the short distance to the nightclub that the Cannons had taken over for the evening. Harry and Charlie were a few steps ahead, while Hermione walked beside Ron, her arm laced through his. When they were a few yards from the entrance, Hermione felt her feet freeze into place. She began trembling and her breathing came fast and unsteady as it suddenly hit her all over again that she was about to come face to face with Joseph. She hadn’t lied to Ginny when she’d confessed she was terrified. Ron gave her a worried look.

“What is it, love? What’s wrong?”

“Oh God, Ron I don’t know if I can do this, if I can face him. What will I say? What-”

“Hey now, just calm down okay? Take a minute to breathe.”

Hermione did as he asked and took a deep breath, her wide gaze locked on his She was reassured by the protectiveness and patience she saw in Ron’s eyes, and after a few moments Hermione felt her racing heart begin to slow 

“Better?” Ron asked her.

“Yes, a bit. But-”

“Listen to me Hermione. Joseph Connery is a bloody sorry excuse for a man and when we see him he’s going to be completely amazed by how much he **didn’t** hurt you. I’m going to be right by your side and we’re going to give him a show, we are.”

“A show?”

“Yes. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you have completely moved on and forgotten all about him. Tonight, you’re mine.”

Hermione’s mind raced with a million different thoughts as Ron’s words sank in. Act like they were a couple? Could she do that? Why did he want to do that? There had to be a better way. But a tiny voice in the back of her mind kept whispering to _go along with it_. She could have him for one night at least, using the ruse as an excuse. 

Oh Merlin, what was wrong with her? Ron was doing her a favor, saving her from humiliation, and all she could think about was that she’d have permission to touch him in ways she never could before. _You’re sick, Granger. He thinks of you like a sister. And you just got dumped by your last boyfriend, so now is **not** the time to be thinking about this._ Hermione knew all that was true. _But I want him. At least for one night._ Her decision was made. She took a deep breath.

“Ok, Ron. Just lead and I’ll follow.”

Ron reached out and took her hand and laced their fingers together.

“Are you really OK with this? It won’t make you…uncomfortable?”

Hermione gave a laugh that she hoped didn’t sound as nervous to him as it did to her.

“Uncomfortable? Ron, we’ve practically lived in each other’s pockets since we were eleven years old. I think I can handle it. And you?”

“I reckon I can.”

“Ok, let’s do this then.”

He gave her a wink and pulled her to the door of the nightclub.

******

The party was already in full swing when they arrived. Music thumped, lights flashed, and the atmosphere was jubilant. Ron wrapped his arm around Hermione’s waist to guide her through the crowd, stopping to talk briefly with well wishers, extremely conscious of the fact that the soft skin between the waistband of her jeans and the bottom of her shirt was warm and smooth. She leaned into him like she’d been doing it forever and as they maneuvered through the crush of people, he caught snatches of conversations surrounding them.

“… thought they were just friends…”

“…see how he looks at her…”

“…one lucky bloke…”

“…look brilliant together…”

Ron smiled. When’d he’d made the suggestion outside, he hadn’t been entirely sure he could convincingly act as Hermione’s lover without revealing the true nature of his feelings for her. And he didn’t want to do that when she was in such a state. But Hermione needed him and so he really hadn’t see any other way. 

_So far, so good_.. He was determined now, determined to bring Connery to his knees in a fit of jealousy that this gorgeous creature was no longer his. He could do this. He **could.**

 Lord, she felt perfect against his side. He scanned the crowd, finally seeing Charlie and Harry and also Ginny and Neville waving at them from a circular booth. He guided Hermione over and as soon as they sat down a waitress was there immediately, bearing a tray with an iced bottle of champagne and glasses upon it. 

Hermione downed her first glass of champagne rather quickly, in the hope that it would calm her jangled nerves. Aside from the fact that she was a ball of nerves over meeting up with Joseph, she was also on edge because the feel of Ron’s hand at her waist was undeniably arousing. She was striving to look casual, trying to relax and just lean into his touch, pleased when he’d tightened his grip and pulled her closer. Her hands were not quite steady as she reached for another glass of champagne. She must have been completely mad to agree to something like this. 

Ron lowered his head so his mouth was directly next to her ear. To anyone observing, it looked like a tender exchange between lovers.

“Easy, ‘Mione. We don’t want you getting drunk and disorderly.” His voice was tinged with amusement but she heard the underlying serious note and so she sipped her second glass slowly. The arm thrown about her shoulders was a solid comforting weight. She scanned the crowd quickly, but did not see her ex boyfriend.

“Have you noticed if he’s here or not?” she asked Ron quietly.

“He’s here.” Ron confirmed. “He just walked in and I don’t think he’s seen us yet. Take a deep breath and relax, love. I’m right here with you.”

Hermione nodded. She tried to pay attention to the conversation at the table but between the dread of seeing Joseph and the distracting warmth of Ron’s body against hers, she could not concentrate. She looked casually around her and stiffened when she saw Joseph all of a sudden. Ron must have felt the immediate tensing of her muscles because he rubbed her arm soothingly while continuing his conversation with Harry as if nothing was amiss.

_So he had indeed brought the blond strumpet with him_. Hermione had seen her only briefly when she walked in on them, but now, with the chance to study the blonde… she could only wrinkle her nose. The woman had a pinched look about her. Even the generous, scantily clad bosom couldn’t mask the fact that she was somewhat… stiff-looking. Hermione thought the bint looked at least ten years older than her. This made a part of her want to stomp over to Joseph and scream, “ _You cheated on me with_ **_this_**?” but another, bigger part of her felt an almost alien feeling of relief. She studied the two of them. Yes, Joseph was handsome but why had she never noticed before that his lips were so thin? That his shoulders were narrow and his chin was soft looking? 

She supposed that being away from him these last weeks, after they spent so much time together for months and months before that, allowed her to see him in a different light. She had expected to experience pain and anger when they finally encountered each other, but even  though she was still hurt by his actions, what she felt more than anything when she looked at the two of them was… Closure. It took her seeing them again to finally realize that he didn’t have a hold over her anymoreShe shook her head at her previous apprehension. He was fully to blame and ought to be ashamed of himself and she wasn’t going to hide from him anymore. 

A new strength infused her as she looked away and leaned her head against Ron’s shoulder. There really wasn’t any point in continuing with the charade now that knew she wasn’t scared of a confrontation with Joseph, but it just felt so nice to be close to Ron like this. She realized it was wrong of course, that she was practically taking advantage of her best mate. She heaved a sigh and opened her mouth to tell him about her realization. However, he tensed at that moment and tightened his hold on her arm. 

“Ahhh, it appears as if we’ve been spotted. Quick ‘Mione, pretend I’m telling you something wicked and clever.”

Hermione didn’t think twice. She allowed a small smile to cross her lips before tossing her hair back over one shoulder and letting loose with a throaty chuckle. Even she was surprised at how sultry she’d managed to sound. Where in the name of Merlin had that come from? 

Ron was entranced by that laugh. He was glad the nightclub was dim enough that no one would notice that he had gone rock hard in an instant. He must have been crazy to think he could play this part. But she felt incredible, snuggled against him as she was. He selfishly wanted this night to never end, wanted her to be with him in truth. Knowing she didn’t feel the same was killing him. 

Harry’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“I do believe we are about to be graced with the git’s presence.”

“Good.” Hermione said. Ron’s eyebrows rose at bit at her choice of words but he didn’t have a chance to respond before Connery was in front of them.

“Weasley.” The shorter man nodded. “Congratulations on the brilliant win.”

“What can I say? We all worked very hard.”

Joseph then turned his attention to the rest of the people seated at the table. He nodded at Harry and Charlie and Neville and Ginny before his eyes finally settled on Hermione. Ron noted the dazed look in the git’s eyes.

“Hermione. You look…lovely.”

“Thank you, Joseph.” She smiled that lovely smile.

 Ron was right proud of her. He certainly wasn’t expecting what happened next; Hermione’s hand dropping to rest on his upper thigh, a warm and teasing weight. Ron’s breath left him in a rush and he hoped no one noticed as he tried to regain his composure. Hermione, though, must have felt him react because she made to remove her hand. He was faster. He covered her hand with his own, anchoring it there and even inching it a bit higher. Her fingers tightened reflexively and he almost groaned out loud.

Hermione didn’t know what had possessed her to put her hand on Ron’s leg like that. But now that her fingers were trapped between his hard thigh and big hand, she thought it felt heavenly. She could feel the heat of his skin radiating through the denim.

Just then Joseph’s date arrived at his side, her eyes narrowed at Hermione.

“Joseph, **must** we stay any longer?” she whined loudly, clinging to his arm. “You know I hate these things. Why don’t we go home?” she said in a suggestive voice, trailing a red lacquered fingernail across Joseph’s jaw, making no bones about the fact that she had her claws firmly into him. Joseph sighed impatiently. 

Hermione almost felt sorry for her ex-boyfriend. Almost, but not quite. 

“Hermione, you remember Collette Smythe.”

“But of course. How delightful to see you with all of your clothes on, Miss Smythe.”

Harry snorted loudly as the other woman’s faced turn blood red. She opened her mouth to deliver what was sure to be a scathing tirade but Hermione didn’t give her the chance. Instead she quickly stood and pulled Ron along with her.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like a dance with my boyfriend.”

She tugged Ron to the dance floor, not noticing that there was a slow and sultry song playing.

Ron definitely noticed, and he was thankful for this reason to hold her. He pulled her to him, one arm going about her waist to rest at the small of her back, the other clasping her hand against his chest. Hermione placed her other hand on his shoulder and they danced slowly, close together. 

“You never told me his little tart was such a cow,” Ron said, his eyes wandering over her upturned face.“That was brilliant, love.” 

“God, did you see her, Ron?” Hermione giggled. “Please tell me again why I was so fearful about tonight. And while you’re at it, remind me what I saw in him in the first place. Honestly, I don’t know what possessed me. And she seriously must only be after his money, because he’s simply lousy in bed.”

Ron goggled at her and Hermione’s eyes widened at the realization of what she’d just said. Bloody stupid champagne. 

“Oh God, I cannot believe I just said that,” she groaned, hiding her face against his shirt. “Don’t look at me.”

Ron’s shoulders started to shake suspiciously and when she lifted her head it was to find him chuckling, a grin on his handsome face.

“Not one word!” she warned him. Turning her face to the side, she let out another groan. 

Collette dragged Joseph to the dance floor as well, and they came to a halt only two or three couples away from Ron and Hermione. The other woman looked like Hermione’s words still stung, and she was choosing to retaliate by dancing in a truly suggestive manner.  _Maybe the bint thinks I still have feelings for Joseph?_ Hermione chuckled at that absurd thought, and let the woman make a fool of herself.  

And Collette did, grinding herself against Joseph, her breasts practically popping free from their scanty restraints, skirt pulled high on her thighs. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned the other way.

“I’m going to throw up,” Hermione remarked.  Ron looked at her questioningly. She nodded her head in the direction of Collette, who was doing her best to wring an orgasm from poor Joseph by shamelessly fondling him right there on the dance floor. The other woman kept throwing triumphant looks at them.

God, she’s quite a piece of work, isn’t she?” Ron whistled. He hoped Hermione wasn’t upset by the display. She didn’t seem to be, choosing instead to face away from them and sway to the music within the circle of his arms. 

Ron had to admit, it felt bloody brilliant dancing with her like this. Even if this was all a charade, he was grateful for the moment. He wondered selfishly what she would do if he pushed things a bit further for their audience. Lowering his head, he brushed his cheek against the side of her throat, inhaling her fragrance, and nuzzled her soft skin. 

Hermione’s knees promptly wobbled. She would have stumbled if not for Ron’s arms about her. _What is he doing to me?_ She forgot all about the charade, all about the ridiculous spectacle a few yards away, forgot everything except the way Ron was making her feel. _If only it wasn’t all for show._

Ron’s lips actually brushed her earlobe in the next minute. His whisper was husky.

“Are they watching us, ‘Mione?”

She turned her head slightly to the left to find that they were indeed being watched. 

“Yes,” she breathed softly.

Ron’s lips traveled from her earlobe to her jaw then across her cheek.

“Still watching?” His warm breath floated over her lips.

She had no idea of they were still being observed or not, since her eyelids had slipped close at the first touch of his lips on her cheek but she nodded slightly anyway. She felt like she was teetering on a precipice. One more fraction of an inch and Ron would be properly kissing her. Would he be so bold? Gods, she wanted him to, even if it was just all for show. Just once, she promised herself. Just once, she’d like to know what his lips tasted like, felt like upon her own. _Oh, sod it all._

Knowing she might never be this brave again, Hermione reached up and closed the distance between their lips. She felt Ron go completely still for about three seconds and then…he kissed her back. His lips were warmer and more amazing than she’d ever dared imagine. They moved over hers with sureness and skill, coaxing her mouth open to allow his tongue to slip inside and stroke her own. Hermione never ever, wanted this kiss to end, never wanted to return to reality.

Ron was awash in sensation. He’d been completely shocked when she’d pressed her mouth to his. That shock had lasted for only a few moments before desire had claimed him and he kissed her back in earnest. Merlin, she was sweet, so luscious and soft and he’d never felt anything quite like this in his life. He knew she had only done it for show, only because Connery and his little tart were watching, but if this was the only way she could kiss him then so be it. He’d take what he could get and savor this memory for a long time to come. His left hand drifted down to her hip and his mouth drank in the tiny gasp she made as he pulled her tightly against the cradle of his thighs. The hand that had been resting on his shoulder now slid higher into his hair, tightening against his scalp. It felt bloody brilliant, even more so when she inched closer and her breasts pressed against his chest. 

Hermione wasn’t sure if her knees could support her much longer. Ron’s hot tongue was sleek and deft, awakening long held back desire within her , and she felt she was in danger of combusting right there on the dance floor. Her heart was pounding so hard she dazedly wondered if he could hear it. Ron was the most amazing kisser she’d ever had the fortune of coming across and it was all she could do to just keep up with him. She inadvertently brushed her thigh across the crotch of his denims and froze at the unmistakable ridge of his erection straining the zipper. 

Ron cursed inside his head as their lips parted. He knew that she’d felt it, there was simply no way for her not to have, hard as he was.  

He lifted his head to find her gazing at him with wide unblinking eyes, her lips slightly parted. Mindful of their audience, her pulled her against him again, her cheek against his shoulder, and resumed dancing, glad when she followed his lead.  He held her closer than he previously had, unwilling at this moment to be parted from her even the smallest bit. His head was spinning as he recalled each detail of their kiss. Fuck, but he’d never dreamed she’d be so sweet, so responsive. He wanted more, much more than a simple kiss. He wanted all of her. 

Hermione dazedly allowed Ron to lead her for the remainder of the dance. The song ended and she was forced to take a deep breath and try to appear as though the kiss had not affected her that much when in truth it had shook her very soul. She would have been content to stay in Ron’s arms forever, but knew she couldn’t. So it was with regret that she stepped back from him and lifted her face to meet his gaze.

Her breath stopped. There, in his beautiful blue eyes, was a perfect reflection of her own burning desire. 

TBC!!

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione found herself unable to look away. The desire she saw in Ron’s eyes was staggering. His breathing was rapid, and even in the dim light of the nightclub, she could see the flush that heated his cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, _anything_ , but was unable to form even one coherent thought when he was looking at her like that. So, she just closed her mouth and waited to see what he would do next.

 

She certainly wasn’t expecting him to take her hand and pull her swiftly towards the shadowed hallway leading to the loos. She had to hurry to keep up with his longer strides as they went past the men’s room. The door to the ladies’ room near the end of the hall was propped open with a chair, what for, Hermione couldn’t say, because Ron quickly pulled her behind it. Before she realized what had happened, she had been backed up against the wall behind the open door and Ron’s mouth was on hers once again.

 

This kiss was different from the one they’d shared on the dance floor. It was deeper, hungrier, more desperate. Ron’s tongue entered her mouth swiftly, traced over her lips and teeth, and slid sinuously against her own. She gasped against his mouth as a flood of heat washed over her and settled between her thighs, causing her nipples to tighten into achingly hard points. She clutched his wide shoulders to keep herself upright under the deluge of sensations. Ron solved that problem by curling his hands around her hips and hoisting her higher against the wall. He settled snugly between her open legs, his hands under her bum. With a sigh of pleasure, she tightened her thighs around his hips.

 

Ron couldn’t remember **ever** being more turned on than he was right now. The feeling of Hermione’s body pressed against his was staggeringly perfect, so good that he never wanted to let her go. The little noises she made as they kissed, the feel of her hands on him, the very taste of her, raised his desire to a blazing level to the point that he began entertaining thoughts of taking her right there, hard and fast, in the shadowy alcove behind the door. He shuddered as she rolled her hips, feeling slippery drops of moisture leak out of his cock and onto his boxers. Ron thrust against her and she moaned hotly into his mouth, her teeth sinking into his bottom lip and tugging before her lips traveled to his ear.

 

“Take me home, Ron. Oh gods, please take me home.” Her voice was shaky.

 

“Are you sure?” he managed to gasp against her neck.

 

“What I’m sure of, is that I’m going to come right here against this dirty wall if you don’t.”

 

Three seconds later they were standing in Ron’s bedroom. Their lips met again and this time Hermione slid her hands to the waist of Ron’s jeans and pulled his shirt out, desperate to feel his bare skin. He obliged by yanking the shirt over his head and Hermione was treated to the sight of his broad shoulders, hard stomach and brawny arms. She’s seen him without a shirt on before, of course, but this instance was completely different. 

 

Ron let loose with a loud gasp as Hermione bent her head and swiped her tongue across his left nipple. She teased it for a few moments as Ron listened to the rush of blood pounding in his ears. His fingers fisted into her hair, and finally he dragged her mouth from his chest and kissed her again. Her hands slipped down and clutched his arse, causing him to growl and lift his head. They were both breathing hard.

 

“’Mione. We…this…”

 

Hermione just smiled, a perfect lovely smile, and pressed a finger over his lips. 

 

“Shhh. Later, I promise. Right now, all you need to know is that I want this as much as you do. I’ve always wanted it, even when I told myself I didn’t.”

 

She held his gaze and slowly lifted his hands to her velvet covered breasts, settling them there and covering them with her own smaller palms. He squeezed and cupped her firmly, blue eyes watching her intently all the while. His fingers soon found the lacings in the front of her corset and he undid them quickly, tossing the garment aside as her breasts spilled free. Ron cradled them in his calloused hands, his thumbs brushing over her stiff nipples, making her moan. His mouth curved into a sexy smile just before he bent to drag his tongue across the aching peaks. Hermione shivered, unable to look away from the sight of Ron mouthing her naked breasts. It was unbearably exciting to watch him taste her. Deep jolts of sensation zinged from where his mouth touched her skin and shot straight to the throbbing heat between her legs.

 

Ron had never really fancied himself a breast man but _fuck,_ she had the most perfect tits—soft and full, the taut nipples a dark pink. He laved and suckled those nipples, and she urged his head closer, asking without words for more. He complied, pulling the tender flesh deep into his mouth, tugging sharply, and was rewarded with a breathless whimper. One of her thighs wriggled between his to press against his erection and Ron growled. He lifted his head, her breast popping wetly from his mouth, and slid his hands down to cup her arse through the tight denim. He was so fucking hard he wanted to rip the remaining clothes off her, but managed to restrain himself. Barely.

 

“I want you naked, Hermione,” he said softly instead, brushing loose strands of hair back from her flushed face. 

 

She nodded and unzipped her boots, stepping out of them while holding his arm for balance. The sight of her bare breasts swaying while she bent was enough to make Ron’s mouth water. Free of her boots, her hands went to the buttons of her jeans. Flicking them open, she peeled the denim down her legs and kicked them to the side. She was utterly lovely and he intended to worship every square inch of that sweet, naked skin.

 

Hermione blushed a bit. It was very surreal, standing before Ron in nothing but a skimpy pair of black satin knickers. She felt the urge to cross her arms over herself, and even lifted them in that direction, but Ron stopped her.

 

“No, love. Don’t hide yourself from me. You’re so bloody gorgeous.”

 

Hermione smiled, pleased beyond words at his sentiment. Her confidence restored, she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and lifted an eyebrow.

 

“Your turn.”

 

Ron gave her a cheeky grin and then quickly unfastened his jeans and dropped them to the floor. His cock was straining against the soft cotton of his navy boxer briefs as he walked the few steps towards her. His hands settled at her waist, toying with the elastic waistband of her knickers, and she felt that unmistakable ridge of heat against her stomach. _He’s so hard!_ She hooked her fingers into the top of his boxers and slowly slid them down his long legs until they fell in a puddle at his feet. Ron kicked them away and stood there, naked and undoubtedly aroused, and it was the most erotic thing Hermione had ever witnessed. Soft ginger hair dusted his chest, narrowing into a bright trail down his lean stomach. His cock, long and thick and solid, jutted out from the tangle of slightly darker auburn curls below his navel.

 

_Merlin_! He was nothing like Joseph, whose cock was a good bit smaller than the one that her eyes were now greedily devouring. She’d not had anyone to compare her ex to, of course, since he was the first person she’d ever slept with, but at this moment she instinctively knew that sex with Ron was going to be a wholly different experience. By the time she was finished with her perusal of his nakedness, that knowledge had rendered her quite breathless.

 

Ron bent his head to kiss her. As they kissed, she ran her fingers lightly through the hair on his chest, teasing his nipples and stroking down his stomach before finally settling on his cock. The hot flesh jumped in her hand, as though eager for her attention, so she closed her fingers more firmly around it. Ron grunted hoarsely and she smiled against his lips, knowing it was a sound of pleasure. Her thumb skated over the head, spreading the wetness she found there. He thrust into her hand with a curse.

 

Taking her quite by surprise, Ron hooked his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her. She happily wrapped her legs about his waist, grinding the now drenched satin of her knickers against his cock as he carried her the few feet to the bed. He turned and sat on the edge and Hermione wriggled into his lap, almost frantic for more solid contact against her mound. Ron’s hands fell to her waist and he held her still as their lips parted.

 

“Easy, love,” he murmured, pressing a hot kiss against the pulse fluttering madly at the base of her throat. “There’s no rush.”

 

“I can’t help it.” She whispered, dropping her forehead to rest against his shoulder. 

 

His hands guided her up until her knees were planted on the bed on either side of his hips and she was straddling him. He hooked the elastic of her knickers with his fingers and slowly pulled them down over her hips. Her bare skin was warm and damp under his touch and he could practically feel the desperation in her movements. Because of their position there was no easy way to pull her knickers the rest of the way off so he simply tore them. The flimsy material gave way easily under his touch and he tossed them to the side, eagerly running his hands up her smooth thighs, his thumbs brushing over the dark, wet curls between them.  She moaned and tightened her legs around his hips. _Gods_ , Ron thought, _she’s so bloody sexy like this_.  Hermione was kneeling over him, panting and wild under his exploration. His cock was threatening to erupt and he wasn’t even inside her yet.

 

Hermione’s nerves were strung so tight she knew it would only take the barest of touches to send her over the edge. When Ron’s thumb brushed over her swollen clit once, then again, she bit her lip and threw her head back with a whimper. He pressed more firmly, his longest finger sliding beneath to slip into her wet slit. She managed to hang on for a few strokes from his fingers but then he lowered his mouth to her nipples and almost instantly she came, her lengthy scream echoing in the quiet bedroom. Her body arched and shook with bliss for long moments as she ground herself against his hand. Finally, she collapsed upon him in a boneless heap. 

 

Ron gently gathered her into his arms and turned them to lay her upon the bed. He settled next to her on his side, one hand tracing light circles over the taut, bare skin of her stomach. To his hungry gaze she looked like an angel, with her hair in a wild halo about her bare breasts and flushed face. Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked at him. He smiled.

 

“Well. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way…” He raised his eyebrow suggestively and she had to giggle, entirely unconcerned that she was completely starkers, in his bed, having just experienced her most powerful orgasm ever at the hands, literally, of her equally naked best mate. 

 

“You needed that, love. Didn’t you?” his voice was rough and tender.

 

“I needed **you**.” She clarified in a soft whisper, her fingers tracing over his cheek and down his jaw in a light caress. Ron caught her hand and pressed a hot, fervent kiss to the center of her palm. Hermione sighed with pleasure at the touch of his lips, at the look in his eyes when he gazed at her so intently. She could feel the hot length of him still pressed against her leg and she was eager for more, eager to have him completely.

 

She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him deeply, lovingly tracing all the contours of his mouth with her tongue, relishing his unique taste. He responded in kind and soon the kiss turned frantic once more. Hermione parted her legs and he quickly settled between them, his hard cock sliding slickly against her folds, teasing her. She clenched him tightly with her thighs and he cursed.

 

“Gods, Hermione…” Ron reached down and gripped his cock to guide it into her slick opening, hissing as she closed around him.

 

Hermione’s eyes widened at the sensation of Ron stretching her, touching places inside her that no one had ever touched. It was amazing, and she felt the deep thrum of desire steadily building inside of her once more. He began moving and she couldn’t help the moans that escaped her lips. She urged him on, her nails digging into his shoulders and back, her spine arching as she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. Hot coils of need raced through her, and she knew she was going come again. Very soon. His name was torn from her lips in a breathless cry. He quickened his pace and her second orgasm erupted deep inside her, white hot and violent in its intensity. She trembled wildly, her arms and legs tightening about him.

 

Ron shuddered and groaned her name as he convulsed and poured himself into her body, slipping his hands beneath her hips to hold her up and against him. They stayed that way for a few long moments until he gathered enough strength to move. Utterly spent, he rolled to the side and gathered her closely against him. With a lazy flick of his hand he summoned his wand and performed two quick cleansing spells. Hermione didn’t notice. A tender smile graced Ron’s lips as he realized she was fast asleep.

 

TBC!

 


End file.
